


One of Three

by Kass



Category: Daria - Fandom
Genre: OT3, Other, Yuletide, trio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-17
Updated: 2008-09-17
Packaged: 2021-02-16 00:10:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kass/pseuds/Kass
Summary: Daria wants to be one of three.
Relationships: Daria/Jane, Daria/Tom
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59
Collections: Yuletide 2004





	One of Three

**Author's Note:**

> Written for boundbyspells as part of Yuletide 2004. Many thanks to Sanj and to Dawn Pares for beta!

"I've got it. The perfect idea." Jane dragged a slice of pizza onto her plate and doused it with red pepper flakes.

"Good, because if I have to look at one more Sharper Image catalogue I'm going to puke. What'd you get him for Christmas when you guys were dating, anyway?"

"Books, I think." Jane shrugged. "Anyway, this is better. Trust me."

"Those words? Never a good sign."

"It's actually something we could give him together. Something I understand every guy wants."

There was a pause. Jane raised an eyebrow and smirked.

Daria waited. "Well?"

" _You_ know," Jane said, dramatically.

"Actually, no."

"Us." Patiently, like she was explaining something obvious.

"What?" Daria's voice squeaked and she clamped down on it. She glanced around the pizza parlor nervously: had anyone heard her? Or, worse, heard _Jane_?

"You have to admit he'd be surprised." Jane licked grease off one finger. "Besides, it'd be fun."

Daria made the next words quieter, almost a whisper. "No. --Hell no. Are you nuts? You've been inhaling too many paint fumes."

"C'mon, Daria, it's not that radical an idea. I'll bet he's thought about it."

So have I, Daria thought, and that is more than you need to know. "You know, I didn't think your deviant mind could surprise me anymore, but clearly I was wrong." Time for a quick and subtle subject change. "So how 'bout that global warming thing all the kids are talking about these days?"

Jane leaned forward across the table and whispered conspiratorially, "I was just kidding."

Daria's cheeks turned bright red. "Oh. I knew that."

* * *

The mall was the obvious solution. It was where you went to get gifts for people.

But Tom was her usual ride, and that obviously wouldn't work. Daria could just picture it: "Okay, I'm going this way, so you go that way, and we'll meet back up in an hour, and don't look at what shopping bags I'm holding." Yeah. Right. Not.

Trent was the other ride option, but she couldn't really imagine that working either. She didn't have a thing for Trent anymore, but it would still be too weird. He'd probably try to convince her to get something pierced again.

Of course, there was a theoretical universe in which getting parts of her body pierced _would_ be a gift for her boyfriend, but she wasn't going there. Because they weren't doing that stuff. And her ears were turning pink just thinking about it.

Her interest in Trent seemed to have migrated elsewhere in the Lane family, honestly, but Daria tried not to think about that. She wanted to get something cool for Jane, too, but she didn't have any bright ideas. Maybe because every time she tried to think about giving something to Jane _or_ Tom, her brain went off in a very wrong direction.

And even if she ignored that, there was the whole weird subtext of buying a gift for her boyfriend and for her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend who was also her best friend. Who she kind of wished were her girlfriend, except that she really liked her boyfriend. The semi-crush on Jane didn't change the fact that she was into Tom; it just...complicated matters. But what was she supposed to do with that? Write a Penthouse letter?

Have periodic fantasies about threesomes, okay, but that was as far as it went. She wasn't about to say anything about it to either one of them. Sex sounded terrifying enough just one-on-one. Besides, Jane wasn't into girls: she'd figured that out last summer at the artists' colony. And Daria already wondered sometimes how she measured up to Jane, in Tom's eyes; she didn't need another excuse for comparisons. Even if imagining herself and Jane on either side of Tom was kind of hot.

She could feel herself turning red again. And this was totally not helping her come up with gift ideas. Daria buried her head in her hands and resisted the urge to bang it against her bedroom wall.

Sometimes she wished both of her crushes would just go away. Then she could hang out with Tom without anticipatory butterflies in her stomach, and hang out with Jane without wondering _what if,_ and stop feeling guilty about being attracted to both of them. Why couldn't she just be asexual?

Everybody's paradigms were designed for dyads. Girlfriend-and-boyfriend. Bestfriend-and-bestfriend. Daria wanted to be one of three, somehow, but there weren't any rules for that. She was like oxygen, off-balance without two bonds. But who in the world was going to understand that?

In the end she made a mix cd for Jane, and bought a book for Tom on Amazon. Which felt kind of lame, but at least it was something.

* * *

Every time Tom came over, her mother found a reason to stick her head in the room every five minutes. "Daria! Tom! Want some cheese sticks?" "How about a root beer?" "You kids doing all right in there?" Tom thought it was funny, but it drove Daria nuts. It wasn't like they were going to make out or anything, but being interrupted all the time was annoying.

So when he called the day after Christmas to see if she wanted to get together and exchange gifts, she vetoed her house. Also, there was a fifty-fifty chance that her dad would be watching "It's A Wonderful Life" and crying into his martini, or that he'd be bopping around the house in a jingle-bell hat, and either way, she didn't want Tom exposed to it.

But Christmas at the Sloanes' was just too opulent for Daria to deal with. They had expensive antique Christmas crap everywhere. Daria just knew they were the kind of family who had more than one tree, and who decorated them by theme. Plus she'd have to make polite small talk with Tom's family. Who might also be watching "It's A Wonderful Life." Which she had seen more than enough times for the rest of her life, anyway.

So in the end Tom drove them to the playground. Predictably, it was deserted. The early afternoon light was already weak coming through the trees. They headed for a picnic table, walking through the puffs of their own breath.

Tom unwrapped his present first: the new Seamus Heaney translation of _Beowolf_. "Wow, thanks, Daria," he said.

She scuffed the sole of her boot on the leg of the picnic table. "You're welcome. I hope you actually like it."

"It looks very cool."

Daria bit back the voice that said actually it wasn't anything like cool, and tore open the wrapping paper on the box Tom had brought for her. Arcanum for the PC.

"It has a mute feature, so you can play it without your folks hearing," Tom offered. "Just keep Word open in another window, as camouflage."

"Wow. Thank you. I really wanted this."

"You're welcome."

They put their gifts down on the grass next to the swingset, then sat down on the swings. The rubber seat was cold, and the chains were colder. Daria was glad she had gloves on.

They swung for a few minutes in silence.

Tom glanced over at her. "Christmas was that bad, huh."

"Oh, it wasn't awful. Quinn got half a new wardrobe, most of which she's exchanging at Cashman's today because now everything's on sale and she can get more for store credit, and I got a stack of books two feet high."

"Sounds like your parents have you pegged pretty well."

Daria shrugged. "I guess I'm predictable."

"Only in the best ways."

She didn't dignify that with a response.

After a second Tom spoke up again. "So...if the black cloud over your head isn't family-induced, is it something I did?"

"What? No, it's not you," she said, automatically.

Tom waited.

"It isn't important."

Tom waited some more.

Daria blew out a breath. "You're just going to sit there until I tell you, aren't you."

Tom's silence continued, and though she suspected he was amused, he had a good poker face. Damn it.

"I'm feeling weird about Jane," she admitted. "I didn't know what to get her. I didn't know what to get you, either. I feel guilty about not being with her when I'm hanging out with you, but I feel guilty about not being with you when I'm with her." Also, she added silently, I feel disloyal to both of you when I fantasize about all three of us. "Plus, I don't know, Jane probably gave you cooler stuff when she was your girlfriend."

Tom pumped his legs harder so his swing would keep up with hers. "Wow. Good thing you don't hold yourself to an impossible standard, or anything."

"I'm predictable, remember?"

"Look. I don't want to come between you and Jane."

Daria glanced over and saw that his cheeks were turning red. More red than the cold air accounted for. Guess the innuendo wasn't lost on him, either. She felt her own face flushing to match his.

"Um. That kind of came out wrong."

"I don't know, those Freudian slips say a lot."

"Okay, leaving the private contents of my subconscious out of this, what I meant was, I don't want to get in the way of your friendship." He was still red-faced, but his voice was calm.

Huh. Maybe he had fantasies he wasn't going to act on, too. Somehow that knowledge made Daria feel better about hers.

A lot better, actually.

"And I don't compare you, you know."

Daria wasn't sure how to answer that.

"I don't remember what Jane gave me for Christmas last year, so don't even ask. And I think epic poetry is cool."

Daria snorted.

"Hey, if it interested you enough to buy it, it'll interest me enough to read it. I trust your judgement, Daria. And honestly? What I really want for Christmas is to hang out with you over break, and we can include Jane if it'll make you feel like less of a traitor. I like Jane. I don't want to be dating her, but if inviting her along will make you happy, it's no hardship for me."

That sounded almost...reasonable. The knot in her stomach started to melt away. "Huh." She let her swing slow down, the arc diminishing.

"Yeah. Let's rent some stupid movies, or walk around the mall and annoy your sister and her friends, or go poke around Goodwill and see who can find the weirdest stuff for under a buck—whatever sounds good to you."

"Those all sound pretty good, actually."

"As long as I get some just-Daria time too," he added. "My folks are going away for a couple days and I'd like to cook you dinner one night, if you're willing to risk it."

"Can't be worse than my father's."

"Hey, I liked your dad's cooking."

"You didn't eat much of it," she pointed out. "You guys got obsessed with that stupid squirrel."

Tom laughed a little. "Okay, fair. But the larger point stands. I'm cool to hang with you and Jane as long as you and I get at least two dates over break that are just for us. It sounds cornball, but I like spending time with you."

Daria looked at her feet, a little embarrassed and smiling so much she probably looked like an idiot. "I wish these swings were more conducive to kissing." She didn't usually say things like that. The boldness felt electric.

Tom's feet dragged his swing noisily to a stop. "Swings aren't so bad," he said, jumping off and walking over to her. He pushed her swing back a few feet, so he was holding her up a little; she wrapped her legs around his back, gravity leaning her into his body. His nose was cold and his mouth was warm and though a cold gust of wind darted up her skirt she didn't really mind. She felt a little dizzy, a little off-balance. Probably just from being at a weird angle to the ground.

When they broke apart he just stood there, smiling a little, looking at her. "Are you over the Jane thing now?"

"Yeah," Daria admitted.

"Cool. Hey, want to go drive around Elk Bluff and make fun of the really excessive Christmas lights?"

"I wonder if that great big house has those purple flashing reindeer on the roof again."

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'" Tom stepped back a little, easing her swing to a resting position. Daria got off, on knees she never would have admitted were slightly wobbly, and they started back towards the car, presents tucked under their arms.

They got in and Tom started up the heater full blast, staying in park to let the engine warm up a little before trying to make it move.

"You know who would really dig the Christmas light thing," Daria said.

"Jane," Tom said.

"Yeah." She hesitated. Would it be weird to ask? Was it really okay?

"You want to swing by her place and see if she wants to join us?" Tom looked at her, his face unreadable.

He doesn't compare us, Daria told herself. And I know how much it sucks to be by yourself the day after Christmas while your best friend and her boyfriend do fun things without you. "Yeah," Daria said.

"Cool." Tom gunned the motor and backed out onto the road, and as they headed towards Jane's house Daria felt warm and a little tingly and actually, against all odds, happy.

They would pick up Jane, and they would drive around and razz the people with the ridiculous Christmas lights, and then maybe they'd grab cocoa at the Beanery. And maybe there was nothing wrong with having fantasies you didn't intend to act on. And maybe she could have two best friends at once. And maybe it would be a good day after Christmas, after all.


End file.
